Revising the Plan
by sarcastic-student
Summary: Michael Scofield had the perfect plan to break his brother out of prison. But what happens when a romantic variable is added into the equation?
1. Chapter 1

Michael Scofield glared into the bright morning sunlight. He hadn't slept well the night before, and didn't appreciate the growing list of complications whose footnotes were being added to his original master plan. His plan to break out of Fox River was complicated enough without adding ruthless felons, lost toes, and the fact that the more time he spent in the prison the more the chances of him and his brother making it out alive became virtually non-existent. He kicked a piece of rubble against the barbed wire fence that surrounded the prison, and sighed deeply.

"Tough morning?" a voice broke into his thoughts. He wasn't really one for smiles what with the circumstances surrounding him and his lack of sleep the previous night, but at the sound of that voice he couldn't help but grin.

"Nah, just enjoying the scenery," he replied, raising his eyes and looking into the hazel ones of Dr. Sara Tancredi, one of the prison's doctors.

She laughed, and at the sound of its musical lilt, he treated himself to a soft chuckle.

"Beautiful day for it,"

"Definitely. I think I'm going to get my camera and take some photographs. Care to pose?"

"Ohhh, I wish I could," Sara said glancing at her watch, "But I've got to run. I just stopped by because you looked so melancholy..."

"Sure, thanks for the company," Michael replied with another grin, but his stomach churned inside of him.

"No problem, I'll see you later."

As Sara turned and walked in the direction of the infirmary, Michael sighed again. Any other time, any other place... they would have been perfect for each other. But here he was, a convicted felon, trying to break his innocent brother out of prison, and here she was, clueless to how she was a crucial part in his plan.

"If she only knew," he said out loud.

"If who only knew?" asked Sucre, his cellmate, walking up to him.

"No one. How'd it go last night?" Michael asked, pushing all thought of Sara from his mind. This was business.

Sucre was silent for a moment. Finally he said, "It didn't."

"What?"

"It didn't, I'm sorry man," Sucre tried to explain, "Bellick and the guys were watching us way too tightly, we didn't have a chance to slip it to him."

Michael groaned, and his shoulders sagged. The "we" Sucre was talking about referred to him and John Abruzzi. He had sent them on a mission the night before to slip "it" (a set of plans) to "him" (Michael's brother Lincoln). The plans were to help Lincoln get out of his cell and meet them at the CO's break room, from which they were to begin their journey to Panama… somehow.

Michael had decided it would be better for him to stay away from Lincoln for a little while, the less people who knew about their relationship the better.

"Whatever," Michael said finally, "Just make sure you get it to him by the end of the day."

"Sure thing, boss," Sucre said and began walking away to find John.

Michael leaned against the fence and closed his eyes. The sun beat down upon his face, and he was just about to slide down the length of the fence to the ground to take a short cat nap, when a voice roused him from his reveries for a second time that morning. This time the voice was no where near as pleasant as Sara's, but its message made his heart flip in his chest.

"Scofield?" the voice asked.

"Yeah," he replied opening his eyes to behold Danny Caines , a new CO facing him. "I'm here to escort you to the infirmary."

Michael swallowed a grin, the new COs always talked straight from the book.

"Happy to be escorted," he said, following him.

Minutes later he arrived a t the infirmary for his daily dose of insulin… and heaven.

"Hey Doc, " he said, jumping up on her desk, "Long time no see."

"Hello Michael," Sara replied, warily eyeing the CO that was still standing by the door. Michael followed her gaze and hastily removed himself from her desk. Caines walked away shaking his head.

Michael didn't know what to do. He was stressed, he was scared and he didn't want anyone to know it. He looked at Sara. No, no he couldn't jeopardize the plan like that. She caught his eyes, and her breathing quickened as she read his look. No, he couldn't, he wouldn't… too late.

He took one step towards her, and covered her hands with his, placing them palm down onto the desk.

"Michael," she said, his name meant as a warning.

"Shhh," he said, his mouth so close to hers she could feel the heat from it on her lips.

Her heart beat faster than she had previously thought possible.

He couldn't do this… but he hadn't an ounce of self-control left.

He grazed his lips along hers gently, and as sparks coursed through his body, pressed his mouth against hers in a heated and passionate kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

Sara gasped as she felt his warm lips meld against her own. There was so much fire, so much intensity, yet the kiss was so leisurely and unhurried… like they had all the time in the world.

Michael lifted his hands and entwined them slowly in her hair, tilting her head back for his tongue to gain better access to her mouth. He wondered how long it was going to last, how long she would let him kiss her like this… be this close to her.

He didn't wonder long.

Raising her hands to his own, she held them still as she slid away from him panting heavily.

"I, uh, I think we're done here for the day," she said, trying to gather towards herself some sense of business-like calm. Fine, Michael thought, two could play that game.

"Sure thing doc, but what about the shot?"

"The what- oh! Yes, the um, the shot. Sorry," Sara stammered, as she anxiously fumbled for the necessary supplies.

"No problem," Michael replied nonchalantly rolling up his shirt sleeve revealing a heavily tattooed and muscular arm.

She administered the shot standing only as close to him as she had to to do her job. For some strange reason, unknown to him, that hurt. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but for the first time that day, restrained himself. He'd done enough damage already.

"Thanks," he said quietly, walking out the door.

"Yeah," Sara said softly. As soon as he was gone she picked the phone up off of her desk., and dialed the number of her friend Elizabeth, also a doctor at the prison, and informed her that she would be transferring the medical care of prisoner Michael Scofield entirely over to her.


	3. Chapter 3

She couldn't wait any longer… she had to see him. Slinking silently along in the shadows of the prison's dark corridors, she finally found his cell. Surprisingly it was unlocked, but it wasn't exactly normal that she was here, so why shouldn't the circumstances be abnormal as well? She slipped in quietly and gently touched the heap of blankets she knew he was underneath.

He groaned and flung the covers off himself.

"Sara! What the-"

"Shhhh…" she said pressing a finger to his lips. "Follow me."

Michael rubbed sleep from his eyes and obeyed. Moving quickly and quietly down corridors deserted by all but the night guards, who upon seeing Sara, made no move to stop them. They finally came to Sara's office. Unlocking the door, she motioned him quickly inside before locking it again behind them. He stood in the center of the room watching her. He didn't know what else to do… this was her show, her game, and all he was was a simple pawn. He disliked the idea, but then realized that she in turn was a pawn to him, a pawn in a much more dangerous and higher-staked game.

She turned and began walking towards him slowly. Too slowly, Michael thought, much too slowly. She lifted her hands up to his face and traced her fingertips gently along his cheeks, his forehead… and his mouth. He felt a heat travel to his groin with a force that almost made him fold himself in half. Instead he gripped her face in his hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. He had to know what this was all about, he had to-

Her lips were on his, fast, intense, and full of need. Her hands slipped underneath his shirt and began running along the contours of his chest and stomach. She pulled away for a second to help him out of his shirt, and then pressed herself close against him to resume the kiss, her nipples hard and pressing against him through the thin fabric of her shirt.

Okay, so maybe he didn't need to know.

He began to pull her down to the floor gently, and spread his shirt out beneath her. Laying her down flat he unbuttoned her shirt, slipping it back so that it pinned her shoulders to the ground. She had come on to him so fast, with so much force, that he needed a little time to gain some leverage. She needed to understand what she was messing with.

He unbuttoned her pants and slid the zipper down, starting at the end of the "V" it made, he pressed his mouth against the soft fabric of her underwear and blew warm breath against it. Moving upwards he repeated the action and was rewarded by her sharp intakes of breath and stifled moans. He began to work his way up her stomach, kissing, licking, and just… breathing. By the time he reached her breasts he wasn't sure how much more she was going to be able to take.

"Oh Sara," he murmured, kissing her face gently. He knocked his forehead against her own. "If you only knew…" he pressed his lips against hers, reveling in the sheer rush of emotions it invoked. "If you only knew," he muttered again.

"If I only knew what?" Sara asked skeptically, pulling away.

Michael stared into her eyes again, searchingly. No, she didn't love him yet, but she would soon learn to. It was all part of the plan. He had known she worked at Fox River from the very beginning, known all about her, and how she always fought for what was right… was always loyal to those she loved. Michael had known he would use that crucial characteristic before he committed the robbery that had put him behind bars. He would have become anything she wanted to make her fall in love with him, but unfortunately it had been too easy. They clicked, they had chemistry that came from just being around each other, from just being themselves. Unfortunately, because the feeling was definitely mutual, not one-sided like Michael had originally planned. The plan… well it was still working, just not the way he had expected it to.

Back in reality Sara was waiting, waiting for him to answer her question. He decided for once to tell her the truth.

"If you only knew," he said, his lips hovering above hers, "How much I need you…"

Sara smiled and their lips pressed together once more. Suddenly, he needed to be inside her. To drown himself in her. In a few quick movements he undressed both of them and pressed himself against her, their naked bodies heaving together, his hardened member poised right above her mound.

"I love you," Michael said softly before thrusting himself inside of her.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm just that cool, right?" Sucre's voice brought him into consciousness with a sickening thud.

"What?" Michael gasped.

"I dunno man, but that was some dream you were having," Sucre laughed and made his way out to the cell to take a shower.

"Yeah," Michael said softly. He decided to go take a shower as well.

A cold one.


	4. Chapter 4

The woman was blonde and petite Michael noted, with warm brown eyes and quick movements that showed that she was expert in her craft. She asked the mandatory questions, administered the mandatory insulin, and sent him on his way in a mandatory fashion. There was one problem however, and the problem was that she wasn't Sara.

"Dr. Elizabeth Charter," she introduced herself when Michael entered the room.

"Oh, Sara's sick?" he had questioned.

"N-, no, not exactly," she stammered, taken aback at bit by the casual tone in which he had asked. He was leaning against the doorway in a relaxed manner, almost as if they were talking about a mutual friend. Elizabeth grabbed her clip board quickly and began the check up. The last thing she needed was to think of the handsome inmate as a friend. She tried to ignore his piercing blue eyes and well built physique as she continued, wondering why Sara had given up the chance to treat the polite and not to mention gorgeous male prisoner.

Meanwhile Michael was experiencing something mildly short of a heart attack. _What the hell_, he had thought when he first saw his new doctor. His stomach had sunk to his toes and then come back up again with a force that was strong enough to make him worry that he might lose his lunch. _What the hell?_ But it was okay, right? Of course it was. It wasn't like he had been looking forward to this particular visit with any more vigor than normal. None at all. No- well, maybe just a little. Somewhere in the back of his mind teased the lingering fantasy of his nighttime dream. Somewhere in the way back, back, back part of his mind. Well maybe it was closer to the front, but really he had so many other things to think about.

Like finishing that damn hole in the guard's break room and getting his brother and all the other inmates out of an incredibly life threatening situation. Sara was just a pawn he reminded himself. An incredibly beautiful, smart, perfect, witty pawn…but nonetheless a pawn in his carefully thought out and strategic game.

He gave a quick wink to Doctor Charter as he left the infirmary.

"Thanks, Doc."

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The kid was barely nineteen. His real name was David, but everybody called him Tweener. He'd done some work for Michael before, but Michael was positive that this time around, he'd have to come up something a little more tangible than just some vague promise of PI work sometime in the future. The question was, what the hell did the kid want? Michael racked his brain for the answer to this elusive question. Extra food? Money? A personal stripper? Too obvious, he thought… maybe a new set of prison clothes?

"There are a lot of things a kid his age could want," C-Note mused as they sat observing Tweener from across the yard.

"CDs, books, magazines… porn,"

"Porn is good," Michael agreed.

C-Note raised a questioning eyebrow before continuing.

"I'd have to say your best shot is to give him PI though,"

"No way, not happening," Michael disagreed, "There are already way too many people in on this as it is. And I wouldn't bet two cents on that kid keeping his mouth shut for more than five minutes."

"Maybe," C-Note consented, "But you might just have to take the risk."

Later in his cell Michael contemplated C-Note's words. Maybe he would have to take a risk and let the kid in on the plan. The entire escape was hinged on the obtainment of two very normal-looking keys Michael knew hung on a bright orange keychain deep inside Dr. Tancredi's pocket. Her house and car keys she had confirmed one time when Michael had purposely knocked a pencil to the ground. She'd bent to pick it up and as she did he'd "accidentally tripped" behind her, causing her to bend forward more than she'd intended, sending the contents of her coat pockets tumbling to the floor. Besides a piece of Juicy Fruit gum, another pencil, and the keys there wasn't much else to be found. He'd asked what they were for, and she'd answered without thinking. He wondered if she suspected his intentions… even now. His plan was to bring the rest of the convicts to Sara's house that first night, calling the cops only minutes before they would arrive. Then he and Lincoln would take off in Sara's car to a secret spot where Michael had arranged for a black Mercedes to be waiting. It was nice, discreet looking car and it would serve them well when they traveled to their next destination.

Michael sighed… apparently Tweener would be joining the already too full guest list of cons on the trip to Sara's house.

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Elizabeth glanced around the tiny infirmary office, trying desperately to force images of Michael Scofield out of her head. It was unprofessional, unrealistic, and incredibly stupid for her to be having thoughts like this. What was she doing?

But as she locked up for the night ideas swirled in her head about the hard-on that had been visible through the thin fabric of Michael's prison issue pants, and the quick wink he had given her before he'd gone back to his cell. What would it be like, she couldn't help but wonder, to have a man like that all too herself, unleashing all his hidden desire upon her… on the desk or maybe even the floor of this very office. He wouldn't protest if she suggested it, Elizabeth was sure.

Well, it was certainly something to think about.


End file.
